...nothing here is promised, not one day... Lin-Manuel Miranda

Making Doctors' Lives Interesting
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Okay, I admit I've never actually heard a doctor laugh in disbelief at seeing my file, but I can imagine it. I saw Rheumatology Man, Dr. C yesterday. Since I'd seen him a month ago, I'd had a bunch of tests done ,and he'd looked at them, and at some old reports and HIS old notes from when he'd seen me in '93 or whatever And he'd consulted with an expert. And while he never said she actually laughed at him, I sensed that the conversation had included a fair amount of "what the fuck is THIS?" because while he'd been hoping to talk her into seeing me, they ended up agreeing that there wasn't really a lot that she could do. She's a world-class something or other - no wait, I know this - um, endocrinologist but she had no ideas either based on all my nice results.

The hospital this guy's affiliated with does something of which I approve; you get tested, you, not just the doctor but you the patient, received the results in a finite period of time. This I noted in signs all over the lab that you will get your results. And I did, last week, get a print out, with lots of results - not all were complete but I figured if something's way off the chart, either the lab or the doctor will tell me. And here's the um good/bad news. I'm completely normal. Great, isn't it? Except I know that Dr. C would really have liked to see some way out of whack test result to explain me. Just as every other doctor who's ever tried to figure this crap out has wanted. Something MUST be wrong. I must be deficient in SOME mineral, some thing, some component. Things don't just break. Right. Welcome to my world. But hey, all that normal result stuff is reassuring too; I don't have any icky disease. I'm very healthy. Er, except um, well, I can't walk. But hey, I'm not sick.

So I went in all brave and shit thinking, okay, he'd said "why haven't you had a hip replacement?" and I'd gone all pale and weird about it but he'd thought it was possible so I was going to be all grown-up and listen and talk it over. I hadn't really needed it - my hips hadn't caused me severe problems until a few months back, although I've known I had this particular condition (called, ready? Protrusio acetabula) for many years. When replacement surgery works, I hear it works really well, but several of us, including other doctors, have not thought me a good candidate for hip surgery. But these folks deal in weird crap like rheumatoid arthritis and lupus and vasculitis and immune system shit and fibromyalgia and weird diseases and weird bone stuff, and they know things. So I'm ready to listen. Except that AFTER he talked to The world class doctor, he showed my stuff to the orthopedist who does weird things who said, her condition is too nasty, the bone is too thin, the socket is too fucked up. Oh.

So my shoulders go back down and I'm off the hook for making that adult decision. And for the possibilities of surgery and of making things better or worse. Fuck, I'm tired. I get exhausted after every damn doctor's appointment, it seems, because I have to brace myself for decisions and deal with outcomes and circumstances and long term and realizing all over again that I've got something weird. Why don't I ever quite get used to that?

What we then discussed is putting me on a medication that might, might help my bone grow. But we won't know for a while, a long while, and it's iffy. It's a drug for osteoporosis. Which I don't really have. But I have weird bone crap that this stuff might have an impact on. But if you see me, don't ask me if it's working yet. A) I have to get the stuff and b) I have to take it, probably for MONTHS if not a year before we know. Still, it worked some for my sister and it's only a once a week medication, with few known negative effects.

"At least" I said to Dr. C "I'm interesting. Not the usual case you deal with" "Yep" he said, "and I bet you'd prefer to be really boring." "Yep" I said.

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